


Romance d'un soir si ça t'enchante

by redpaint



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Dirty Talk, M/M, Overstimulation, Sex Work, Truly just unspeakably horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpaint/pseuds/redpaint
Summary: "That’s my mystique. Gamer vixen.” It’s kind of silly, but Lando likes it. It’s easier to laugh off the jitters if he gets an encrypted email asking to meet up for a Boss Fight, rather than 4 hours of grey-market “companionship.”
Relationships: Lando Norris/Daniel Ricciardo
Comments: 22
Kudos: 154





	Romance d'un soir si ça t'enchante

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eefiplier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eefiplier/gifts).



> for lasorcas, for some... inspiring gifs and encouragement

Jenson is sitting back in the wicker café chair, looking every bit the relaxed retiree he is. He looks tan. He looks good. He’s squinting at Lando’s phone, because it will be a fair few years before he admits he needs reading glasses, one leg folded over the other, bouncing his foot around with such lazy enthusiasm that Lando worries he’ll kick his cappuccino off the table. Lando thinks Jenson could still charge £1,000 for an hour of his time, if he wanted to.

Then again, _youth sells_ was one of the first slivers of advice Lando had managed to pry out of Jenson, after he’d sworn up and down that he was going to do this no matter what, with Jenson’s blessing or without it. “A lot of these guys are looking for something new. Their lives, their wives, their first-class trans-Atlantic flights, it’s all old hat. You get to be the shiny new thing on the block.” A lot of young guys looking to break into the industry must have solicited help from the (in)famous Jay Bee over the years. Lando still hasn’t wrapped his head around why Jenson sees potential in him in particular.

But Lando likes being shiny. Likes being appreciated, desired, noticed, scouted. This isn’t the least logical career choice he could be making.

“Your site looks good. Who’d you hire to do it?” Jenson asks, incredulous.

Lando tries not to look too pleased. He knows it looks good. It’s got SEO coming out of its ass, too, but that’s all hidden. “I did it myself, ‘s not that hard. What do you think about the photos?”

“They’re nice.” Jenson zooms in with two fingers, considering. “Tasteful. In my day you paywalled anything racier than underwear shots, but these days all bets are off.”

Lando took the photos himself too. All it took was a secondhand DSLR, a couple of ring lights, and a bootleg copy of Lightroom. He doesn’t volunteer that either, though. He’s got a reputation to build, and in a luxury industry, DIY isn’t exactly a virtue.

“You’ve got a full bio, gallery, wishlist, and services page, and you haven’t even had a client yet?”

Lando crosses his arms in front of him, tucks his chin into the neck of his hoodie. “With how much you’re telling me to charge, I can’t have anyone realizing this is my first go ‘round. Everyone wants a virgin but no one wants an amateur.”

“Hey, don’t quote me at me,” Jenson warns, but he looks fond. “Are you sure potential clients are going to understand all the video game stuff?”

“Don’t you see, old man? That’s my mystique. Gamer vixen.” It’s kind of silly, but he _likes_ it. It’s easier to laugh off the jitters if he gets an encrypted email asking to meet up for a Boss Fight, rather than 4 hours of grey-market “companionship.”

“Please tell me you’re at least not planning on dressing like you’ve just crawled out of Mum’s basement.”

“I’ve got nice clothes,” Lando protests. They’ve all still got the tags on, but he was going to make sure he tried them on before his first booking. He’d just been really busy.

Jenson is unconvinced, but he doesn’t say it. He just smiles over the lip of his coffee and slouches a little lower, looking satisfied with the execution of his mentorly duties.

“Here,” he says, and reaches under his chair. He brings out an expensive-looking shopping bag, the kind of thing Lando wouldn’t dream of touching on his student budget. “I know it’s just going to end up on the floor, but I can’t have any protegé of mine wearing something that came from someone’s _merch store._ ”

Lando wants to argue, but he’s gone all in on being _cheeky_ , not rude. He’s already taking Jenson’s time, mentorship, advice, and gifts. He doesn’t need to try his patience as well. “Thank you.”

Jenson waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. Just promise me you’ll be safe, alright? Remember the basics? You’re your own best friend when you’re out there. Just— keep your head on straight, yeah?”

Lando nods but if he’s being honest he’s thinking more about how much he’d like to be like Jenson, when he gets to be that old. Jenson’s got croissant crumbs down his shirt and doesn’t seem bothered by it. He’s embodying a kind of unselfconscious ease that has been totally alien to Lando’s twenty years on earth. But maybe he can be like that one day. Maybe once enough people tell him he’s beautiful in cold, hard cash.

⁂

The guy’s “name” is Daniel, and apparently he’s a cheapskate because he only books an hour-long Tutorial session. Still, the message is the most exciting email Lando’s received since his uni acceptance.

He tells Jenson the time and place and makes plans to check in five minutes after the session is meant to end. The check-in and a can of pepper spray in his backpack are all he has in terms of safety, a fact which only really sinks in once he exits the elevator and is finally alone in the silent, extravagantly carpeted hotel hallway.

It all feels a bit surreal. He’d asked himself a million times if he was really ready for this and made sure the answer was an emphatic _yes_. He’d thought about it for so long, planned it down to the millimeter. But he still has to focus on the things that remind him that this isn’t a daydream: touching the silky lining of the sharply cut blazer Jenson bought him, checking the Signal notifications on his phone, running his finger over the condom packet in his back pocket to make sure that it’s still there. There’s probably never been a more important time to think with his head and not his dick, but he’s already half-hard in these new paint-on jeans.

Eventually, he just stuffs his headphones into his bag and tries to focus instead on not obviously blushing, on not thinking too much about how good it felt to finger himself open in the shower before he left, on not accidentally knocking on the wrong room.

Daniel is wearing an oversized tie-dye t-shirt when he opens the door. The floor behind him is covered in discarded clothes, and the air is thick with herbal steam from the shower. “Hiya, Gordon?”

Lando tilts his head in a way that he hopes comes across more as an interested coquette than puzzled bird. “Hey, Daniel? Can I come in?”

Lando had expected older. A lot older. Daniel seems youthful at least. On the inquiry form he had unhelpfully listed his occupation as _traveling businessman,_ but with his tattoos, he looks more like a lifestyle vlogger. He’s got a smile big enough for YouTube, beckoning Lando into the room like they’re old friends and not strangers. “Sorry about the—er—everything. Travel lifestyle, you know how it is.”

Lando hasn’t left the UK in years, but his website still has a Fly Me To You section. He glances at the dresser. There’s a heavy, expensive-looking watch laying on its side next to an unmarked envelope. Just where he asked for it. It’s odd to think that he’s set the rules of the interaction before they’re even met, but he supposes that’s the point. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen worse.”

He should really, really count the money first. Another winning piece of rookie advice from Jenson. He slips the envelope into his pocket instead.

He can feel Daniel watching him. He examines the view of the city through the picture window instead. “Are you in town for long?”

“Through the end of the week. Do you deepthroat? It didn’t say in your bio.”

Jesus Christ. It sounds like he’s asking Lando what he had for lunch. Lando doesn’t miss a beat though, just arches his eyebrow and turns to look Daniel in the eyes. “Er, yeah? Part of the job description, isn’t it?”

Daniel shrugs. “Takes all sorts.” He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing more tattoos and tan skin. He is, truth be told, very good looking. Lando goes to the gym, obviously, and the photos on his website were specifically taken to showcase it. He never expected a client to give him a run for his money. Daniel really doesn’t need to be paying for sex, but Lando won’t be running out to file a complaint. “We don’t have that much time, I figured I might as well get comfortable.”

“Yeah, of course. You, uh, you look really good.” Lando does his best to keep up. He’s meant to be the impressive one here, not the other way around.

Still, Daniel seems charmed by it, smiling as he sits on the edge of the bed. He spreads his legs wide, relaxed and lazy and completely unsubtle. It’s as wide-open an invitation as Lando will ever get. He strips off the jacket and folds it over the chair in the corner with as much care as he can. Then he shucks off the rest of his clothes onto the floor before he can second-guess himself. Daniel just stares with open appreciation, especially when he gets to the things the photos didn’t show.

“Do you mind if I—?”

“No, go ahead,” Daniel says, his voice dry. It may have been a prepared line but it _works,_ and has Daniel leaning forward in anticipation as Lando’s underwear falls to the floor.

It’s a little embarrassing to be so hard already. Ideally, Lando would like to be a little more aloof, playing a little harder to get, a seasoned professional. Still, he strokes himself a few times, since Daniel is watching. This is all happening quicker than he’d imagined, no polite small talk, but he’s not sure he could have waited much longer anyway. Anxiety and arousal are working together to slowly swallow him whole. He can’t really believe he’s doing this.

Condom, right. Remember the basics. He snags it from his pants and sinks to his knees with as much grace as he can manage, which isn’t much. It’s familiar and strange at the same time, but he relies on his instincts and doesn’t waste any time. Daniel hardens nicely against his lips, the satisfying physical evidence of what Lando can do to guys, when he tries.

There’s no use playing coy when Daniel’s been so upfront about what he wants. Lando takes a deep breath and relaxes his throat, then takes Daniel as far down as he can manage. It’s worth it for how Daniel goes from silent to swearing in no time at all, his fingers tangling in Lando’s hair.

Just as Daniel is getting completely taut and hard on Lando’s tongue, and Lando starts letting pride drive him to suck deeper, to the edge of gagging, Daniel tugs lightly on the back of Lando’s hair, pulling him away. Lando goes, looking up at Daniel with big eyes. He knows he looks good. He keeps working Daniel’s dick with his hand, pleased by how he can make Daniel bite his lip and breathe out hard.

“Not yet,” Daniel says, stopping Lando’s hand with his own. He still squeezes hard at the base, looking down at Lando with a spark of something mischievous in his eyes. He ushers Lando to his feet and onto the bed, maneuvering him with warm, steady hands until he’s bent forward over Daniel’s lap, his ass high in the air.

Of the less-bad scenarios Lando had imagined for tonight, the worst was if he had to lead the whole thing himself and improvise a suite of suitable sex acts that would get him a good rating on PrivateDelights. Daniel, thankfully, seems more than willing to ask for what he wants. Lando tries not to feel too much like he’s slacking on the job.

“This is what I’ve been thinking about all day. I was looking at your pictures.” Lando preens a little at that, rocks back and forth on his knees. Daniel hums and runs a hand down Lando’s side, across his abs. “Couldn’t stop thinking about how I was going to get my hands all over you. I already got myself off in the shower once before you came.”

Daniel’s voice is nice. It’s low and always seems to be poised on the edge of a joke, which makes it more satisfying when he turns dead-serious and filthy. The head of his cock brushes Lando’s thigh, but Lando ignores it for now, Daniel’s attention clearly all on him. _This_ is something he’s confident that he’s good at, taking the attention with an aw-shucks bashfulness that he’s been assured is a much more popular persona than a dirty-talking porn star.

There are two lube-slick fingers rubbing at his hole, and then they’re pushing in, slow and firm. Lando forces himself to relax and properly enjoy it. He’s been turned on for so long, he can’t stop himself sighing in relief. The stretch is delightful and so much better, thicker, than when he did it himself. He curves his back a little deeper, presents his ass with a little more flair, and moans when Daniel adds a third finger.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” Daniel breathes, his breath blowing across Lando’s lower back, sending pinprick shivers up his spine. Lando can imagine it, but he wishes he couldn’t. The thought is too much, too quick. Daniel’s hands are so big, his fingers would be stretching him obscenely wide. Lando wants more, wants a break— he needs a clear head, but his neurons are only transmitting analog fuzz, no signal.

They’ve got an hour to kill and Lando is going to come before his guy even fucks him. It’s just poor customer service.

Daniel rubs slowly, purposefully over his prostate. It’s a blast of static at the edges of Lando’s reality, slowly occluding his other thoughts. Lando moans into the duvet, a bit of precome dripping off his cock and onto Daniel’s knee. Daniel chuckles at that, bringing his other hand up to rub his palm over Lando’s balls. “That’s good for you, then?”

“Oh, you might want to— Your hand on— I might come.”

Daniel just leans in closer, so he can whisper right into Lando’s ear. “That’s so fucking hot. Do you think you can handle me inside you when you’re all sensitive?” Lando squeezes his eyes closed and nods his head. He can do anything, if he’s asked. He can be good, adaptable, impressive, _worth it._ “Good, I want you to try. I want to see the faces you make.”

“Anything you want, Daniel.”

“I want to see you suck your fingers, will you do that for me? That’s good, just like that, nice and full.”

It doesn’t take long after that. Daniel fingers him in time with short, quick strokes over his cock, keeps running his mouth about how he looks so pretty, baby, yeah, just let go, just let it all out. Daniel is so clearly getting off on how into it Lando is letting himself be, so Lando slips his fingers out of his mouth and yelps when he comes, rides it out and thrusts back on Daniel’s fingers until it’s too much stimulation to bear. Then he collapses across Daniel’s knee.

Daniel keeps his word and barely gives Lando a second to recover before he picks him up by the hips and flips him over so they’re face-to-face. It’s the closest they’ve been to kissing, Daniel staring down at Lando as he struggles to catch his breath. He disappears for a moment to wipe the mess off his thigh and then he’s back, pushing Lando’s knee up towards his chest and whistles when he sees how far it bends. Lando does not have the spare mental capacity to even be proud of himself anymore. “You ready?” Daniel asks, rubbing the head of his cock over the lube on Lando’s inner thigh.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, please—”

Daniel hisses as he pushes in with one slow thrust, bottoming out and sitting there as Lando spasms around him.

Lando doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He grasps at the sheets and covers his face and grasps at Daniel’s shoulders and keeps moving because all of his nerve endings are firing at once and the energy from it needs to go _somewhere_. Daniel only pulls out halfway before pushing back in, not relenting for a moment. “It’s, ah, it’s too much, but don’t, don’t stop—”

“You can take it darling, you’re perfect for this, come on.”

Lando anchors himself to the bed, caught between pushing back into Daniel’s thrusts and squirming away from the overstimulation. It doesn’t help that Daniel is rubbing his thumb over the come-sticky tip of Lando’s soft cock in time with his thrusts. Daniel is so focused on him — it’s nothing like he expected. He thought of himself as entering a service industry, but here he is letting Daniel do all the work. The feeling of Daniel watching his jigsaw expectations fail to fit is almost as overwhelming as the sheer physical sensation of being dragged to the limit and hauled over it without warning.

Lando wants to say something to wrestle a bit of control, a bit of dignity back, but Daniel can’t seem to stop talking. “Jesus, you’re big. I bet all the guys love that big dick, don’t they?”

Lando almost chokes on his own tongue “‘S all yours,” he bites out. He can still do this, sell the fantasy— exclusivity, for an hour.

But Daniel doesn’t seem to want to play ball. “Bet they want to see it bounce when they fuck you, huh? They want to see you come all over yourself while you ride them?”

Lando can barely focus on Daniel’s words, on formulating a reply, let alone on keeping his back arched and his eyes half-lidded like a centerfold. He probably looks sweaty and half insane by now. Daniel’s cock keeps glancing off his prostate, an electric shock every time.

“You’re my first,” Lando admits, before he can stop himself. Daniel stops moving. Fuck, shit, _shit_. “I mean, I’m not, I _have_ had sex before, don’t worry—”

Daniel is still very much balls deep in Lando’s ass and breathing hard. “But you’ve never done this before, sunshine?”

Lando is now very, very glad he has his eyes closed. He really looks like a fucking amateur now. He can feel the blush spreading down his neck, giving him away, but still, he smiles through it. “Someone had to be the first client, right?”

Daniel swears under his breath. “You know, I wouldn’t have guessed. You’re a natural.”

He pulls out slow and then shoves back in, knocking Lando’s breath out of him with the force of it. It takes no time to get back up to pace, even faster now, like being first really turns him on, makes him want it more. Daniel’s bracketing him with both arms, his body so close over Lando’s that Lando can smell Daniel’s eucalyptus aftershave and feel his breath on his neck. “You take my cock like you’ve had a lot of practice. You do this a lot? You figured you could get paid doing what you love, laying on your back and just taking it?”

Lando is caught out entirely. It makes his heart beat in double-time, makes him want to haul Daniel closer. “Yeah, you’re right, fuck, don’t stop.”

Daniel laughs at that, a burst of hot air against Lando’s ear that somehow feels as good as getting fucked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lando should have his guard up, should never have let it slip at all, but he’s too far gone now. If all the guys can be like Daniel, he doesn’t think he’ll ever quit. “Wish you could fuck me without the condom,” he says, which is stupid, so incredibly stupid and dangerous and goes against everything he’s told himself but he means it and the thought alone is making him hard again, _fuck_. He wants every guy to be like Daniel but he really, really can’t do _this_ ever again. It’s too late to think about it or say anything different. He opens his eyes in time to see Daniel’s eyes go almost comically wide.

“Wish I could too, wish I could see my come dripping out of you. You look like an angel, baby.” Daniel’s getting wild, arrhythmic, and Lando does his best to squeeze tight and wring it out of him. 

“Call me Lando.”

“Yeah? Want to give you everything, Lando. Want you to take it ‘cause you like it.” His fingers dig deep into Lando’s hips, as though it were possible for them to be any closer than they already are.

There’s £600 in cash in an envelope on the floor, and that’s reason enough to like this, but Daniel is pulling Lando back onto his dick with every thrust and Lando is throwing every carefully learned lesson about how to get fucked for money out the window, along with his higher brain function. Daniel’s hand is so good, almost painful on Lando’s cock and Lando’s name is on Daniel’s tongue, and Lando just about chokes out, “I like it, I like it,” before Daniel groans into Lando’s neck and trembles through his orgasm.

Slowly, slowly, Daniel disentangles himself from Lando’s body, lets go of his hips, slides out of him, flops to the side and stares up at the ceiling like he’s been etherized or maybe just struck over the head with a heavy object. His dumbstruck silence feels like a victory, even though Lando is similarly quiet. Lando just focuses on how Daniel’s breathing slowly goes back to normal and wonders how exactly he let himself fuck up this badly. He’s still maddeningly hard, again, and he can’t do anything about it but breathe and try to let it go like an unscratched itch.

Maybe when he gets back to his flat he can count the money and actually get himself off again, thinking about Daniel’s scent.

If he does this again, he’s going to have to prepare better. If he does this again, he’s going to have to be ready for clients like Daniel, who are hot enough and attentive enough and responsive enough to stroke his ego in just the right way to make him utterly stupid.

He rolls over and kisses Daniel for what feels like the rest of the hour, then grabs his clothes and leaves just in time to pick up Jenson’s call.

⁂

Lando gets back from his evening lecture late. Nothing would feel better than turning off his brain, eating the leftover pasta in the fridge, and falling asleep watching speedruns. Still, he checks his email as he shovels the spaghetti into his mouth, because that’s how his life is now. He’s a young businessman, of sorts. An entrepreneur. There are a few new inquiries in his inbox, but the guys don’t have any references. Apparently they can’t read the rules. He marks them read and moves on, slowly putting his fork down as he spots a familiar name.

_  
From daniel.ricc@rensport.com  
To gordon.f.london@protonmail.com_

_Hey Lando, I mean, Hey Gordon ;) I’m in town again this week. I was hoping to connect... i heard you could help me with a boss fight? (idk if i’m using that correctly, you’ll have to tell me when we see each other.)_

_Either way, here’s the place I’m staying. Can i reach you at the same number?_

_Daniel_

_P.s._

_Do you take gifts? I was just in paris and i couldn’t stop thinking about you  
_

Lando should really just mark it read like the others. He has plenty of regulars on his calendar, and more inquiries than he needs to fill in the gaps. He’s got a cozy, steady business going. Rookie mistakes can stay rookie mistakes. Jenson taught him that.

But the idea of being thought of, _longed after,_ by a handsome man on the streets of Paris — well, he’s only human isn’t he? It’s been a year, but he’s still got Daniel’s number in his phone. He licks a spot of tomato sauce from his lip and tries not to smile too hard when Daniel texts him back almost immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry???????
> 
> gordon f... like gordon freeman... haha am i right fellow gamers?
> 
> title from Les Filles Désir by Vendredi sur Mer - _It’s a one-night-stand if that’s what you want_ (I needed something pretentious to distract from the fact that this is pure self-indulgent porn. enchante, you know?)
> 
> tumblr - redpaint
> 
> double disclaimer: this is fiction (obviously), and while i did some research in the form of reading interviews and looking through personal websites, this is 10000% a stylized fantasy of sex work where Many Mistakes Are Made. duh.


End file.
